


we are as infinite as the universe we hold

by FestiveTrickster



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (slightly) drunken team cuddles, (slightly) drunken team game of sloppy mistletoe platonic kisses, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, POV Second Person, Pining, akaashi's totally ok with his feelings, kenma's a big ball of Denial, no Sad Gay Awakening here folks, not enough of akaashi pining tbh, probably, there is a christmas team party ok, this is cheesy, this is gay, this sounds way more poetic than it probably is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5399456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveTrickster/pseuds/FestiveTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>;home, of course, is where your parents and your younger sister live, but you also think home is where bright golden eyes shine brightest, where there’s a smile (just for you), and where calloused hands find yours when you didn’t even know you were looking;</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are as infinite as the universe we hold

**Author's Note:**

> this came about while listening to romantic playlists on songza and the fic...just sorta... _happened_.  
>  (this is probably so out of character, i am so sorry)  
> Since it's called fukurodani _academy_ , i took it to mean that it's a sort of private school that would have dorms. they actually do exist in japan, so y'know, it could be possible? anyways, that's the interpretation i went for  
> i hope you enjoy! :>

_~ ~ ~_

 

_"With golden string our universe was brought to life, that we may fall in love every time we open up our eyes."_

_-_ "Sun", Sleeping At Last

 

* * *

  

You are fifteen, and trying to find your place in your new high school. It’s a new journey for you, another stepping stone in the path that is your life, and you are excited. Nervous, scared, and out of your element, but still excited. You’ve always had a bad sense of direction, and you get lost on your way to several of your classes, fighting the embarrassed flush that creeps up your neck. You hate that you’re in this sudden world of unknowing, of not fitting in because you haven’t established who you are yet. And the funny thing is, you _don’t_ know who you are yet, because you are _fifteen_ and still so, so new to the world. Second and third years all walk the halls with practiced ease, and you stumble along as if in a maze that only has the option to go forward. Soon, nervousness and fear overtakes your excitement, because you are fifteen and this high school has dormitories. This is the first time you are living away from home even though you live about twenty minutes away by car. Everything is just so. New. It’s hard.

When you step into the gym to sign up for the volleyball club - the only source of familiarity to you - you hear the squeaks of sneakers, the smack of the ball hitting the ground, and the faint smell of SalonPas, and you breathe. These are things you Know. Things you Recognize and things you Remember.

You are fifteen when you are introduced to second year Bokuto Koutarou, and even though his hair is stark white, and behaviour quite erratic, he helps you. Helps you adjust to high school, to living on your own, to finding your place in this current moment.

* 

 

 You are halfway through your first year when you think you’ve become best friends with Bokuto. You know his Number One Best Friend is Kuroo Testurou from Nekoma High down the street, but you also think that you might be a very close second. The two of you have become surprisingly close, within these last few months. He makes an effort to eat lunch with you on the rooftop every day, where you both lean over the railing, and try to think of the best thing that’s happened that day. It’s relaxing, and comforting, to know that you has someone in your life who is willing to spend so much time with you, even though he’s a year older. It seems like formalities and year rankings don’t matter to him, because he’s cracking jokes and getting into your personal space; at first it was alarming, but you soon got used to his antics. It was something that was ever changing, and yet consistent; a paradox within himself. You told him that one day, and he laughed, smiling brightly, bringing dimples to his cheeks.

“A paradox, you say?”

“Yes,” you confirm, leaning over the roof’s railing. A slight breeze ruffles your hair, and you watch the cars pass by on the street below you. “You’re ever changing- your ideas, and actions are always evolving and morphing into something new. But your core is always the same. You’re smart, caring, and full of emotions. You want what’s best for your friends and those are important values to have, and ones that I think will stay with you for a long time.” You sneak a peek at him, and see that his eyebrows have raised slightly, and mouth agape.

 “It’s very admirable, Bokuto-san,” you finish, with a small smile. Because the thing is, you might be a bit jealous of him. Affection and action comes so easily to him, whereas you struggle with showing your friends that you care through physical means such as hugs, and pats on the back. It’s something you hope to learn throughout high school, and you think that being friends with someone like Bokuto will help.

“Wow….Akaashi…that’s so….you really think so?”

He looks bashful, and you feel a sense of pride in making that come to fruition. A part of you wants to see how embarrassed you can make him, but you push that down for now. Perhaps later, whatever ‘later’ means.

“Of course, Bokuto-san,” you nod earnestly. “I always mean what I say.”

Bokuto looks like he’s beside himself, and stares straight ahead at the Tokyo skyline to give him something other than you, to look at. You notice how he’s fighting down a grin, and fiddling with his hands. It’s cute, you find. You don’t dwell on that thought much, as it’s a thought that keeps popping into your head every so often, but you find you don’t mind too much.

* 

 

It’s the summer break of 2011, when Bokuto brings up the idea of going hiking with you one gentle Tuesday morning, when the sun is bright, and sky so blue it’s as if the city doesn’t exist behind you. The two of you start out early in the morning- it’s a trail in the mountains, so it takes about an hour on the train in order to get to your destination. Bokuto leans his head against the window, and the morning sun reflects off the angles of his face in a way that makes your insides feel mushy. You wonder if you could sneak out your camera and take a photo of him sleeping; he looks so serene, and peaceful, and you want this moment to never end. It’s a sort of oddly intimate moment, despite it being on a public train, but you feel as if it’s just the two of you.

Your stop announces over the PA, and you gently shake him awake, chuckling at his sleepy delayed reactions. It’s cute. _He’s_ cute, and adorable, and all other adjectives that you feel simultaneously at once, and it just flies right through you and envelops your soul with such a peaceful embrace as if it’s been there this entire time. And maybe it has. But it doesn’t matter, because you need to get off this stop before the doors close.

Miraculously, you manage to get onto the platform on time, but just barely. Bokuto is still sleepy (and still cute, always cute), so he stumbles around the station quietly, confused.

“Bokuto-san,” you say, trying to get him to wake up. “Do you want me to grab you a drink to help you wake up?”

He shakes his head, viciously, and you’re about to make a comment about how he’ll probably get a headache from all that shaking, when you realize that he’s trying to shake himself awake.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I get really out of it if I nap.”

You shake your head to dismiss the worry. “It’s ok. Shall we head for the trail?”

Bokuto perks up, and his hair follows. Part of the gel has been mussed by his head on the window, but you don’t have the heart to tell him. One side is still straight up, but the other is sort of sticking up in a way that isn’t like his trademark hairstyle, but reminiscent of Kuroo’s bedhead. It’s incredible, really. With that thought in your head, you set out, ready for the full day of hiking that you have ahead of you.

 

It’s 8:04pm, and you are Utterly Exhausted, but Bokuto tugs you by the wrist with promises of “Just a little further, Akaashi! We’re almost there!” and you can’t find it in you to stop following him. You don’t think you could ever stop following him, you think idly. It’s just the logical choice: you would probably follow Bokuto to the edges of the earth if you could, if just to keep him out of trouble. But there’s something in the back of your head and the front of your heart that tells you that’s not the only reason you would follow him. You don’t dare argue.

He drags you further through the forest, up a dirt path, and you just keep going up and up and up, until you finally hit rock and that’s when Bokuto releases your wrist and beams at you like you’re his favourite person in the world.

“We’re here,” he whispers excitedly.

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “But what exactly are we looking a-” He spins you around so you’re facing the edge of what you belatedly realize is a rock cliff, and he whispers softly, ever so softly and warm in your ear, to look up. When you do, all the breath rushes out of you, and your legs weaken. It’s the most breathtaking sunset you have ever seen in all of your fifteen years of life, and it fills you with rays of light, starting at your feet and rising to the top of your head. You actually have to sit down, in order to appreciate it properly, and Bokuto joins you, sitting close enough that your knees touch, (but you don’t say anything).

“Did you know about this?” you breathe, a soft whisper, afraid to break the beauty before you.

Bokuto laughs, and it’s melodic, and makes you break your gaze to look at him. For the second time in the span of five minutes, your breath is stolen. You’re not sure if it’s the setting sun’s reflection in his eyes, or the way the light casts shadows in all the hollows and depths of his face, but you think he might be even more beautiful than the setting sun before them. You are at peace with this thought- it seems right. You think _, okay. Okay. I’m okay with this._

The two of you sit quietly together, watching the sun set and you think that this is one of those moments that Mean Something. You know this is something that you’re not going to forget, and you selfishly wish would never end, no matter _how_ cheesy that sounds.

Even though you know he’s not looking directly at you, you can feel him looking at you out the corner of his eyes. You get the feeling as if he wants _you_ to Do Something, but you don’t know what that might be, and you would be lying if you said that didn’t bother you. You’re not good with knowing what to do in these moments, but you’ve watched enough romantic comedies with your sister to know that one of you are either going to Do Something, or not. You feel the unspoken pressure that you’re supposed to do whatever it is that you’re supposed to do, first, but you think it would be easier if you _knew_ what it was you were supposed to do.

 (There’s a tiny voice in the back of your head, that wants _him_ to do something first, instead. You can hear a tiny trickle of truth that maybe, just _maybe_ , you want him to kiss you)

 You settle with leaning slightly against him, pointedly not looking at him, and training your eyes stubbornly on the sunset before you. And if you rest your head on his shoulder, well, neither of you mention it.

 It’s not until that the last rays of sun has disappeared over Mount Kilimanjaro, and the colours of the sky have faded into black, that you realize something.

“Bokuto-san,” you ask slowly. “Did you bring a flashlight?”

You know he’s smiling by the tone of his voice, as you feel his ear when he knocks his head against yours playfully. “Nope!”

You’re stomach drops, and a cold shiver runs through you. “Then,” you start slowly again, as you’re trying really hard to sound more annoyed than scared at the moment. “How are we supposed to find our way back?”

“…. _shit_!”

“Yes, ‘shit’ exactly,” you mumble, getting back up. Even though its summer, it still gets chilly at night, and without Bokuto as your source of heat, you realize just how cold it really is.

 Bokuto stands up and exclaims that he thinks that it’s pretty cold too! You roll your eyes, and ask him if he knows the way back, to which of course, he answers that he does indeed.

(you don’t believe him)

With only both of your phone display screens to light the way, the both of you make the 4 hour trek through the dark woods, back to the train station. You emerge from the forest scratched from tree branches, panting from your hurried (and terrifying) hike, and griping hands so tight it was as if your life had depended on it (it did).

On the train ride back into Tokyo, Bokuto promises that the next time he wants to show you a sunset, he’ll do so on the roof of the school so they won’t have to walk 4 hours through a very dark forest ever again. You smile gently, and tell him that would be nice. You turn away, watching the lights pass by, and pretend not to notice how brightly he beams. Cupping your chin in your hands, you rest your elbow on the train window, your other hand fiddling with the straps on your backpack, and hide your smile in your hand.

*

                                      

 It's the first day of your second year, when you realize you might possibly have a crush on Bokuto Koutarou. It hits you in the way that it feels as if you haven't seen him in years, and you miss him. (You saw him last week)

Seeing him during the break is different than seeing him at school. It's almost as if you're returning home; home is where your parents and your younger sister live, but you also think home is where bright golden eyes shine brightest, where there’s a smile (just for you), and where calloused hands find yours when you didn’t even know you were looking. It's a warm feeling, and your toes curl in your volleyball shoes, while you clench your teeth, swallowing. You try not to smile, even though you really want to.

You think it's a good feeling, but you need time to mull it over. Bokuto, however, wastes no time reacquainting himself back with their gym, yelling and running up and down the length of the floor, shoes squeaking, pretending to spike imaginary volleyballs. You think to yourself that you wouldn't mind falling in love with him.

He runs up to you, hand tugging yours, and leads you to the centre of the gym, walking briskly. He yells loudly, trying to gather the attention of all the students in the gym. New first years look startled by his loud voice, while the second and third years sigh (some irritated, as it's still quite early in the morning, but it's never with malice).

"Hey hey _hey!_ I'm Bokuto Koutaro!" He announces loudly.  "I'm the captain, and one of the top five spikers in the country!"

A series of awed whispers break out among the first years, and you feel your heart burst with pride.

"And this," he continues, even louder, as if to regain everyone's attention. "Is my vice-captain, Akaashi Keiji!"

You blink furiously, flustered at the sudden attention. You knew of this decision, but it still feels embarrassing being stared at by so many eyes.

There's a whoop, and someone in the back of the group yells, "Yeah! Get some owl _ass_ , Akaashi!"

You start at that comment, and for a moment you're confused, until you can hear some of the whispers from the front and realize that Bokuto is still sort of holding your hand. The back of your neck flushes horribly, and you gently remove your hands from his absentminded grip. Bokuto either has yet to realize, or is too hyped on his captain speech to notice- either way, that's fine for you. If he's distracted, then he won't get upset or embarrassed at accidentally holding hands.

 While Bokuto finishes up his speech, you casually think about if that's what it's like to really hold hands with him, without the threat of being eaten alive in the darkness of a forest late at night. You absently wonder if it would feel any different if you slowly threaded your fingers through his, and if they would fit nicely or not. His hands (as yours), are calloused and rough from playing this sport for so long. You wonder what it would be like if he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand, slowly, like a comforting reassurance.

 You don't realize how deep you've spaced out until Konoha is snapping his fingers in front of you, trying to bring you back to earth because they're gonna start a practice match, are you okay Akaashi?

It isn't until the opposing team scores a point during your practice match that you notice you were softly smiling the whole time and you frown, blinking in surprise at the drastic facial expression.

If your teammates have noticed anything, then they're keeping silent. However, it doesn't stop them from sending you odd glances every so often during the following weeks, and it's then that you think you might have to sit yourself down and think about this.

 

You don't end up having that talk with yourself until the summer training camp-not because it's not important, but because you keep getting distracted by school, volleyball, and Bokuto. Their training camp this year is including a team from Miyagi called Karasuno, and your opinion of them doesn't particularly change until the last few days, in which you really regret including the blonde with the glasses in the after-hours blocking practices.

 During the barbecue, you sit next to Kenma, who you still refer to as Kozume-san in your head, even if he refuses to let you call him that.  The two of you sit on the steps and cringe at the sight of Bokuto and Kuroo coming over with played filled high with food. They try to push it into both of your faces, but you sigh and end up taking it all, piling the plates on your lap and on the steps next to you, if just to get them to stop bothering Kenma. The loud bald player from Karasuno starts yelling about something, which drags Kuroo and Bokuto into the mess, resulting in you and Kenma sigh simultaneously.

"You like him," he says blandly, as you work on a pack of ribs. Just because Kenma didn't want the food, didn't mean you weren't going to eat it.

Putting the rib down, you sigh. There's a jitter in your stomach at someone knowing this private information, but you know Kenma, and you know you can trust him.

"How did you know?"

He shrugs. "It was obvious. But not to him."

You let that comment wander around, tasting to see what it meant. "I see."

Kenma pauses, and you idly inspect your ribs, wondering if you're still hungry (you are).

"Does it bother you? Having feelings for a guy?" He mutters, softly. You wonder if he's being quiet for your sake, or because he has an ulterior, selfish motive.

"No," you answer honestly. It really doesn't bother you, but you can't help but feel a little subconscious about what others will think. It's scary, but you don't hate it. You don't think you could ever hate the feeling you get when you're around Bokuto.

Kenma hums in thought. "Did you want to talk about this later? When we're not surrounded by…" He nods his head at the chaos that are 5 or so teenage boys’ volleyball teams fighting over grilled meat.

You stifle a laugh, and agree.

 

That talk doesn't come until a few weeks later, when Bokuto and Kuroo drag the both of you to a local mall to check out the new sports shop that opened up. You watch the boisterous boys hoot and holler across the mall to the sports store, while you Kenma opt out, find a pair of chairs in the food court and talk.

You talk and you talk, and you don't think Kenma would be interested in this conversation unless he was struggling with it himself, but he doesn't say anything until he does, and it's to point out how animated you've gotten by talking about Bokuto. You didn't realize it, but you've been smiling, and Kenma looks like he wants to laugh at how far gone you are.

"It's nice," he finally admits, twirling the straw in the cup of pop he bought earlier. "To see you so secure in your feelings. Most people wouldn't know what to do, and would push it down as much as they could"

You prop your hand on your cheek, and lean on the aluminum table nonchalant, and sigh. "I guess, a part of it is that I don't really think about it? I don't like to think about the bad possibilities, and so i instead focus on the good things." You blink, and scrunch your face. "But as soon as you start talking about this stuff, and thinking logically, it's very confusing."

Kenma hums in thought. "It makes you not want to think logically."

You nod. "Yes."

He fiddles with his straw some more, and you realize he's feeling self-conscious. You're not going to pry.

"I think it's brave," he mutters, more to his straw than to you.

You shrug. "It's just...not a big deal."

Kenma pauses so long, you think he's not going to say anything, but he nods, and affirms a "you're right," before suggesting that they make sure their friends haven't set fire to the sports store yet.

(They haven’t, but they did accidently knock down an entire row of volleyballs, trying to see which one was better)

 *  

 

You are chilled, and bored, when you find out that Bokuto Koutarou trusts you with his secrets.

The both of you sit in his dorm room, waiting for the rain to stop so you can toss the volleyball around outside. You are sitting against the wall, staring out the window, and he is laying on his bed, tossing the ball upwards in a constant setting motion even though he doesn’t set. It’s cold, and dreary; miserable, and quiet. The rain has a way of making the small room bigger than it really is, the unusual silence between you lingering in a way that feels like it’s bouncing off the walls and echoing in your ears. It’s a silence that speaks volumes, but comfortable in a way that makes you feel as if you could read Bokuto’s thoughts, even though he isn’t speaking. You of course, can’t read his thoughts, which is why you’re surprised when he breaks the silence.

“Hey, Akaashi? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Bokuto-san.”

He tosses the ball up and down a few times before he catches it and pauses. “…have you ever …do you ever…aaahhh never mind!” He scrunches his face in what you’re pretty sure is embarrassment, and continues to toss the ball, albeit a bit more forceful than before.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’ll listen if you want to talk.”

He looks at you with this sobering expression, and you realize this probably isn’t a trivial topic.

“I’m not going to judge you,” you add, as if to confirm his trust in you. He looks serious, and it’s a strange expression to see on him. A little part of you wonders if you need to worry.

Bokuto laughs soundlessly, and you can see a faint smile, before he places the volleyball on his forehead before closing his eyes. “Alright, alright. I was just wondering if you’ve ever really…thought about…kissing?” He whispers the last past, as if it’s part of a grand secret that he was never supposed to tell you. And maybe he wasn’t.

“Beg pardon?” You blink in surprise, because really. That’s not what you thought he was going to say at all. You pick at the seams of your uniform pants, because this is not a conversation you thought you would be having (so soon, or if at all).

“I mean!” he laughs sheepishly, playing with the ball and having it roll up and down his face as if to mask how nervous he is. “Just in general! I was just wondering! You don’t have to answer!”

“Um,” you eloquently reply, and try to find something more fascinating in the room than staring at Bokuto and hoping that he says he’s been thinking about kissing you (because you have. You have indeed thought about kissing him and there aren’t enough fingers on a hand to count how many times you’ve thought about it). “I suppose….so…”

This seems to encourage him and he lifts his head in excitement, exclaiming, “Hey, me too! I-in general...y’know.” He plops his head back onto his pillow, and drops the ball onto his chest, and plays with it, while a smile in turn plays with his mouth. “Hey, can I ask you a weird question? You gotta answer honestly though, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Promise to answer honestly!”

You swallow nervously, and try to stop your erratic heartbeat. He wouldn’t ask _that_ …would he? “I promise.”

“Do you think it’s weird,” he bounces the ball lightly on his chest, mimicking the _thump-thump-thump_ of your heart. “To think about kissing…guys?”

“No,” you answer too fast, and chastise yourself. “It’s not weird at all.”

You wonder (hope, and dread at the same time) that somehow, this conversation will lead to a confession, but it doesn’t. Bokuto doesn’t say anything about his feelings (for you? you hope it's you he's thinking about kissing and not someone else) and you don’t know if you’re disappointed, or relieved.

He scratches his head, and looks away from you. “Oh, okay! That’s good! I was kinda embarrassed about it, but if you don’t think it’s weird, then it’s not weird!”

“How can you trust my opinion so much?”

Bokuto beams at you, and it’s his dimply smile that melts your heart and halts your breathing. “I trust your opinion, Akaashi!”

You think to yourself, at the tender age of nearly sixteen, that it’s not possible for someone to think that highly of you after knowing you for barely a year. And yet, here he is, in all his beaming glory. You wonder if you deserve to have someone like Bokuto in your life. You feel so honoured and treasured – it’s not a feeling that you experience often, and it’s rendered you speechless.

“…thank you,” you whisper, and when you lock eyes with him, you feel this overwhelming sense of trust and fondness. You smile, and find you can’t stop (not that you’d ever want to, when you’re with him).

*  

 

It’s Christmas, and it hits you, as you’re surrounded by the team in the club room, rowdy as always and fooling around in awful holiday outfits, that you’re in love with Bokuto Koutarou. It’s when, among the chaos of the second years daring to try to get Konoha to put on a Santa hat, that Bokuto finds your eyes and smiles his toothy grin that you know is especially for you because his dimples are showing and his eyes have that soft glow that you can see from across the club room. It’s gone in an instant, and he’s going back to playing “Pin the Reindeer Antlers on Komi”, and you try to find something else to look at to take your attention away from him, to make the back of your neck stop feeling so hot. You manage to eat an entire plate of snowflake gummies, before the neutral expression on your face drops down into a frown. Kaori had for some unknown reason, found some mistletoe, and was whispering conspiratorially to Yukie, who looked torn between stopping her from unleashing it upon the boys, and pointing out the best spots to hang it.

Your fingers tap idly at your jeans, and wonder if this a good idea. Your managers were very much capable people, but Kaori was more of a prankster who liked to drag your younger manger into her schemes, which were _innocent_ , but still gave you a sense of concern, which only sky-rocketed when they turned their glances towards you. Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head, only to have Kaori grin.

You whisper a quiet, “… _fuck_.” And pray for your life.

 As Kaori was Kaori, she was very good at seeming innocent, and what started as dropping the mistletoe behind her back, only to turn around, pick it up, and exclaim loudly, “Wow! Where did this mistletoe come from?” turned into the biggest headache of the night.

Every single head whipped to face her neutral expression, as she held it up for all to see. In a single moment, she unleashed chaos upon their simple high school clubhouse, when she threw it across the room and yelled, “Scramble!”

Sarukui immediately tried to spike it, only to have Komi dive across the floor to grab it, holding it up triumphantly.

“Alright,” he grinned, and you see Konoha pale, and Onaga giggle nervously. “Who wants a piece of this?” Komi gestured to himself, wiggling in an attempt at being sultry.

A series of laughter, groans and yells of protest ensued, before Bokuto reminded everyone of the tradition of mistletoe, and how if you refused, you had to go stand outside in the snow in only your underwear. Everyone threw their Santa hats at Bokuto, and Komi used that diversion to leap onto Konoha’s back and plant an over dramatic kiss on his cheek, before sliding off, laughing, and handing the mistletoe to him.

“It’s your turn!”

Konoha looked at the plant, and then at Komi. He squinted, then his eyebrows raised in understanding, and thus began the Great Mistletoe Competition of 2012. The unspoken rules were as thus following: the sillier you were, the better; no lips; once you kissed someone, you had to hand them the mistletoe; you had to kiss everyone in the room in order to win.

You stared at your teammates running around the club room trying to plant one on each other, and wonder if there was something in the punch bowl. Curious, you decided to try some, and – oh yeah, somebody _definitely_ spiked the punch bowl.

Sighing, you wondered if anyone would notice if you left club room, or if that would make you more of a target. You feel a tap on your shoulder, and you shoot down so fast it was as if your life depended on it. You crawl under the snack table, and decide you are not going to leave your spot for the rest of the night.

A face lifts the white table cloth, and you see Sarukui grinning at you, while offering up a sweet gummy candy.

“Akaashi, I was just going to ask if you saw these candies yet. I heard they were your favourite, so I wanted to make sure you had some before Washio eats them all.”

You eye him suspiciously. “You were going to kiss me, weren’t you.”

He laughs, and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m all kissed out.”

“Liar,” you hiss, but there’s no real venom in your voice. “I’m not going back out there. It’s a bloodbath.”

Sarukui spares a glance at the disorganized club room, and you know he was about to argue, but swallows it back up and gives you an apologetic look, before standing up, and letting the tablecloth fall back to its place.

You sigh in relief at finally being left out of this game, until the flap opens and Konoha grins at you with his weasel smile, and you don’t have time to think, before it’s not just Konoha, but the rest of the team crawling under the table, trying to kiss every inch of you. They don’t have any aim, and end up mashing their faces against your shoulder, or your hair, and at first it’s overwhelming, but then it turns to a ‘who can make Akaashi laugh the most’ competition.

“Sarukui, you rat!” you yell, and you’re laughing because someone is blowing raspberries on your neck, and you screech in laughter because _who_ is licking your hand that _tickles_ , fuck, that must have been strong alcohol in that punch bowl because your friends are acting as if they are totally wasted. It’s silly and they don’t mean any harm, so you don’t mind too much.

“Enough, enough!” you squawk, in between your laughter, and everyone is laughing, and piled on top of each other under this small, plastic table. You all definitely don’t fit, but that doesn’t stop you all from trying to.

“This is nice,” you hear Komi say happily. “Us dog-piling Akaashi. It feels like team bonding.”

You can’t argue with that, and even though you’re not particularly sure what the point of this ridiculous game was, and you’re glad it didn’t make anyone seriously uncomfortable, if by the indication of them all laying on top of each other in an impromptu group cuddle.

“Please, no heart-warming speeches,” Konoha groans, and buries his face in Washio’s shoulder. “This is gay as fuck as it is.”

“And yet,” Bokuto points out, happily from closer to your ear than you thought, “you don’t hear anyone else complaining.”

“There’s nothing wrong with cuddling your teammates,” Kaori adds, from where she’s shoved between Yukie and Konoha. She pokes him in the head and wonders out loud if he’s been deprived of cuddles. The team then goes to try and dog pile Konoha, whose protests end up being muffled by arms trying to wrap around him. It’s dysfunctional, but it makes you laugh. As weird and awkward of a team you have, they’re warm-hearted and mean the best (even if their best is currently trying to smother Konoha with friendship).

 

It’s about an hour after the team dog pile, and the team has decided to pile on their winter gear and play outside in the snow. Yukie suggests snow angels, and Washiro is judging to see which ones are best, in the dim streetlights.

You lean over the railing of the clubhouse, and regard your team on the ground below you fondly. Bokuto appears beside you, and nudges your arm gently.

“Sorry if the game we played earlier made you uncomfortable.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. It didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

He leans his head to the side, in confusion. “Then why didn’t you join in?”

You glance up at him. “Well,” you begin playfully, yet you retain a neutral expression. “I wouldn’t have known who to kiss. You know, there’s _so_ many options.”

He snorts, and reaches into his jacket pocket. You raise your eyebrow in interest, and your eyes widen when he pulls out the most battered, and sad-looking piece of mistletoe you have ever seen.

Bokuto looks at you sheepishly, and weakly holds the plant between the two of you, at chest-level. “Are you _sure_ you don’t know who you would kiss?”

You stare at him, in shock. You don’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this. (but you hoped it was anyways)

He takes in your expression, and flushes horribly, and in a stuttering mess, he drops his hand and mumbles out an apology. “Yeah! You’re right! This was a stupid idea, I mean! It’s super cheesy so it’s just-”

“Bokuto-san…” you interrupt, fiddling with the loose threads on your jacket. You don’t look at him. “You can…it’s okay...I…yeah.” you clear your throat, and try again. “It’s….it’s not a stupid idea.”

You realize that now you’ve made this awkward, and you should have just wrapped your arms around him and kissed him when you first saw the mistletoe. You were too shocked to do anything but gape at him, and now you’re both stuck here standing on the porch of the club room, with your stomach swarming with colonies of butterflies, and your body radiating heat from embarrassment.

_(This is happening_ , you chant over and over in your head, because you can't believe this is real. _This is happening, this is happening, this is happening...)_

Bokuto sighs, and looks away, red blotches reddening his cheeks. “It was kinda a stupid idea. I just thought that it would be really romantic if I brought the mistletoe that we were using, y’know…for the game where you had to kiss people, you know! Like, it would be funny!”

At this point Bokuto is stumbling so much over his own words, that it’s not really making any sense, so you step forward, and wrap your arms around him in a hug, which effectively shuts him up. He goes stiff, and, you bury your face deeper into his jacket in order to try and get him to relax (also because it’s cold and he’s very warm). Almost hesitantly, he brings his arms up to wrap around you as well.

“A-akaashi?” he stutters, confused.

You take a deep breath, and steady yourself. If you’re doing to do this, you’re going to have to be quick about it.

“Bokuto-san,” you mumble into his jacket. You bite the inside of your cheek, and fuck everything. You lift your face and look at him, and if your fingers are curling into the back of his jacket nervously, then that's fine.

“Bokuto-san,” you repeat with more conviction. “If you want to kiss me, you should do it right now.”

He blinks, his honey eyes growing wide, and his jaw dropping. You glance at his lips, then back up at his eyes, telling him to _hurry the fuck up_.

His breath hitches, as if he’s remembered that yes, you asked him something, and leans down, knocking your noses together. You grip his jacket tighter, your hands now clutching the front of his coat in a desperate attempt at not having your legs give out. You’ve never wanted to know what molten lava felt like, but now you know, because that is exactly how hot your face and neck are. He keeps knocking your noses together, and it’s killing you. You’re dying slowly, and you continue to die at an even faster rate, when you remember that some people call these butterfly kisses.

As much as you love butterfly kisses, and as much as you’re in love with this dork who is trying to muster up the bravery to kiss you, you really, _really_ just want to feel his lips against yours.

“Koutarou…” you whisper as soft as you possibly can, and you can feel him _break_. He inhales so shakily, that you’re worried he’s going to choke, but all thoughts that are not about Bokuto Koutarou go flying out into the cold December wind, as he finally crashes his lips onto yours.

Your heart explodes, and you grip his jacket tighter, and kiss back as best as you know how. You lean so far into him, that he nearly stumbles backwards, and is he-is he _laughing_ at you? The asshole has the nerve to smile against your lips, and he’s chuckling, even. You pull back, and do your hardest not to pout at the grinning dork who nearly spent 45 seconds gathering the courage to kiss you.

“Wow, Akaashi, I didn’t know you were _that_ eage-” you shut him up with another kiss, and make sure to sneak your arms around his neck and pull gently on his ear with one hand as payback. He’s still smiling despite everything, and he’s wrapped his arms around your waist; you can’t help thinking that you could spend forever getting used to this.

He pulls back this time, and leans his forehead against yours, panting just a little. It’s enough to make you smile, softly, and surely.

“Akaashi?” he whispers, and his arms around your waist tighten. “I…I really like you. Like, with owl of my heart- _Ow_!”

You push him backwards, and smack his arm, trying to be mad, but you can't find it in you to be committed to the feeling. “I can’t _believe_ you made an owl pun while confessing to me!”

“But A _kaa_ shi! It’s not my fault that I’m almost positive that you’re my sowlmate!”

“ _Unbelievable!_ ” you shout in mock anger, and bury your face into his jacket, hugging as tight as you can. “I’m in love with an actual _owl!_ ” You’re laughing breathlessly into his jacket, but you don’t _care_ , because you’re the happiest you think you’ve ever been and honestly, just _fuck_ everything else because you’ll be _damned_ if you didn’t secretly love those owl puns.

Bokuto squawks, and wraps his arms around you, and leans in close to where your face is currently becoming quite acquainted with the front pocket seams. “Did you just say you were in _love_ with me?”

You scrunch your face in what is undeniably a pout, but will never admit to doing, and turn your face away from him. “I said no such thing.”

Bokuto breaks into the biggest smile, and rocks the two of you back and forth on this wooden porch, in the middle of winter and snow. “But you did! I heard you! You love me! You’re _in love_ with me!”

God, this is _embarrassing_ , hearing him yell out your confession out loud like that (even if it’s true, that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing).

He leans in close, which is a little hard for him to do, as you’ve practically merged yourself with the front of his jacket, but he goes and fucking kisses the top of your head and whispers, “it’s okay, owl always be in love with you, too.” You groan at the awful pun, and flush at the confession- you’re just a mess. You’re a pile of mush and goo, but it’s okay, because so is Bokuto, even though he’s now whooping and hollering, and swinging both your bodies side to side in some awkward dance.

“Congratulations, you love owls! When’s the wedding?” a voice yells, that isn’t Bokuto’s, and you turn your head to the other side, immediately groaning. Their entire team was standing below them, cheering and yelling out various variations of “fucking _finally_!”

“So now that you two are finally dating, does this mean we need to knock five times before entering the club room, or what,” a voice that you _definitely_ recognize as Konoha’s calls out, and you want to _die_. Bokuto, on the other hand, completely disregards Konoha’s intention, and instead only hears the word ‘dating’ and gasps so loudly, you’re once again, afraid he’s going to choke. Honestly.

“Akaashi! Akaashi! Are we dating? Can we date?”

You hide your face in embarrassment, because now that you know your team is watching, this entire ordeal just became about twenty times more embarrassing.

Somebody shouts out that Bokuto should get down on one knee and ask, and you hold him firmly in place to make sure he doesn’t move. “Bokuto-san, please do _not_ do that.”

He wilts in your grip, and you can already see the “But Akaashi!” coming out of his mouth, so you mutter a quick, “yes,” before he can get a word in.

He looks confused and my god it’s adorable. You tug him in for a quick kiss, that still sends butterflies into your stomach, and you hear whoops and hollers from your team. “Yes,” you mutter against his lips, before he has a chance to say anything. “I will date you.”

Bokuto shines so bright, you swear you need sunglasses. He, of course, announces your agreement loudly to their awaiting team, who cheer in merriment, and declare that this demands a celebration. Soon they’re all bounding up the steps, and patting you both on the shoulders, and Bokuto’s giving out fist pumps. You smile weakly, as you’re not used to the attention, and would much rather not have all the focus on you.

Finally, Onaga, who is the last player to head into the club room after a nod at the both of you, closes the door, and you breathe.

“Finally, we’re alone,” Bokuto tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist once more, as if they belong there. Now that you are alone, he seems to have regained more confidence, because he dips his head and captures you in a slow and soft kiss that melts your insides, and makes you fall in love all over again.

“Don’t get any ideas,” you whisper, breaking apart. “The team is right next door and I can almost guarantee that they have their noses pressed up against the window.”

Bokuto laughs, and you chuckle. You are so in love.

 

You are sixteen, it’s a few days before Christmas, and you’re sure your team is spying on you. But as you stand on the porch of the club room in the freezing cold of winter air, kissing your boyfriend, you can’t find anything in you to care, because you have found your happily owl after.

**Author's Note:**

> this is so fucking cheesy what the hell  
> 


End file.
